


When something this good comes along

by Marishna



Series: Divinity [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Laura Hale, Christmas, Derek Tries, Dessert & Sweets, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gift Giving, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealous Stiles, Laura Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Lies, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Stiles, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Rebuilding the Hale House, Romantic Derek Hale, Secrets, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8207731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: "Feel like I just faced the Spanish Inquisition," Derek replied.


  "Nonsense," Stiles replied, then smacked Derek on the butt. "No one expects the Spanish Inquisition."





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a quick little, 300-word fic using one or all of the following words (sugar, dessert, truffle, caramelize, kitchen, spoon, bake, pie, nougat, apple) for a card_writing challenge at gameofcards on LJ. Apparently the fic had other ideas for me!

Stiles let out a frustrated groan and slammed the cupboard door, drawing Derek's gaze across the small kitchen.

"You okay?" He asked as Stiles glared at his counter.

"I'm fine," he replied with a sigh. "I just need a bigger kitchen, is all."

"Anything I can do?" Derek asked, ready to put the plans for his house-in-progress aside.

"Knock down a few walls? Annex the apartment next door?" Stiles asked ruefully. He shook his head. ”Never mind, I'm going to have to go to the shop to get this stuff done."

"Want company?" 

Stiles grabbed his phone and notebook he kept all of his recipe notes in before kissing Derek softly. "You stay here and work on the house. If I know you're there with me I'll be distracted."

"I can't imagine why," Derek replied with a grin. Stiles had to take a moment to think back to the nights after the bakery closed for the day since they'd gotten together. Derek said he still wasn't able to see Stiles' floury handprints without being half hard. 

Stiles shook his head, trying to clear the lust that clouded his mind. "I won't be long," he said, then kissed Derek again quickly and left his apartment.

Stiles knew Derek considered his place ... well, _cozy_ would be a generous description of the kitchen. He tried to figure out if there was a different configuration he could come up with to help Stiles be able to cook in his own place the way he wanted. Unfortunately, short of ripping the whole kitchen apart and starting over, there was little he could do. It didn't help that Stiles was renting and couldn't do anything permanent.

The past couple of months with Derek had been a whirlwind of stolen kisses across the bakery counter, raucous laughter from Stiles as he tried to teach Derek how to bake, late night sighs and explorations of each other's bodies in Stiles' bed (they only stayed at Laura's once and her wide grin was far too much to take that early in the morning). 

Stiles wasn’t sure how he ended up so damn lucky to have a guy so willing to know _him_ in his life. Derek didn’t have many words to express himself but he used his hands and lips and whole body instead, thrilling Stiles every damn time his shirt or pants came off.

He even survived meeting Stiles' grandmother although he was assured she would love him no matter what. Stiles knew Derek could feel her laser-like gaze on him all weekend as she got the measure of him.

He knew she approved, though, by the time she left and drew Derek in close for a squeezing hug. She whispered in his ear that she could taste Stiles' feelings in everything he baked and cooked for her that weekend and that Derek better make sure he kept it up. Derek said he felt that was her way of threatening him with a shotgun and merely nodded, which seemed to be good enough for her because she patted his cheek and kissed him on the forehead before leaving. 

Derek had let out a shaky breath of air and laughed as he hugged Stiles close when Stiles’ dad drove away from the shop with his grandmother to ferry her back to the airport. 

“You okay?” Stiles asked, broad smile on his lips.

“Feel like I just faced the Spanish Inquisition,” Derek replied.

“Nonsense,” Stiles replied, then smacked Derek on the butt. “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.”

 

***

Indeed.

***

A month later Stiles was rolling out crust for apple pies that were always his best selling desserts in the weeks before Thanksgiving. He was sure that he could keep his bakery offerings restricted to pumpkin and apple pies and make a killing off them alone. It’s partially why he only offers them from the week before Halloween to Christmas. Get a Divinity pie while you can! Limited time offer, no holds barred.

It also meant he stayed later at the shop to make sure he had enough product to fill his pre-orders and still have enough to stock the display case without people going ballistic on his staff. Speak of which…

“Got to run to the store for pumpkins before they close,” Stiles announced as he threw on a hoodie over his apron with the smock turned down. Erica saluted as he strode through the bakery, waving to a few customers sipping on coffees and chatting over applewood-smoked bacon and aged-cheddar scones.

The grocery store was only four blocks away from the shop and the night was gorgeous. Stiles didn’t rush as he walked, mentally going over what he wanted to get done once the shop closed at nine to be ready for the next day. He spent a few minutes in the store talking with Vel, the evening produce stocker, and laughed with the girl who rang him through about how he almost smashed one of the pumpkins trying to get it on the register belt.

He had two paper bags of moderately-sized pumpkins in his arms along with a long Tootsie roll hanging out of his mouth as he walked back to the shop. On the way he looked up at the stars, squinting through the glare from streetlights. As he looked around he noticed a light grey Toyota down a side street. 

Stiles slowed but didn’t stop until he got to the other side of the street. He paused, wondering if Derek was at the shop and just parked away because he wanted to walk. Or maybe it wasn’t Derek’s vehicle at all, maybe—

But Derek was there, walking out the back door of some building Stiles couldn’t remember because he never went down that street. Close on Derek’s heels was a tall black woman, with long dark hair and tight leather pants. 

_Leather. Pants._

Stiles wanted to keep going. Just turn around like he’d never seen Derek’s vehicle and walk away because this wasn’t what it looked like, it couldn’t be. But Stiles watched and saw them hug and Derek smile at the strange woman and be familiar with her. 

So much more different than when he met Derek those months ago. 

It felt like someone suddenly injected his veins with something and he there were jets of hot and cold running through his body. He was sweating but felt chilled and clammy.

Stiles turned and walked back to the shop, disappearing into the back without greeting anyone when he returned. He barely waved when Erica and Isaac closed and cleaned once their customers were gone, and they said good night. 

It was midnight before Stiles got back to his apartment. He hadn’t talked to Derek since earlier in the day and he had no idea if Derek was going to be at his place or back at Laura’s. Usually when he worked this late he would have called and told Derek so he could spend the night with his sister instead but this time neither of them had said anything. 

Derek was in bed when Stiles got to his bedroom, navigating his apartment in the dark. He could make out a lump under the sheets, though, and shucked off his clothes as quickly and quietly as possible. He crawled into bed as softly as he could and turned his back to Derek, hoping he wouldn’t know the difference since he was asleep.

No such luck.

“Y’r late,” Derek snuffled as he rolled over and reached out for Stiles. Stiles allowed himself to be pulled back into Derek’s arms, spooning so perfectly it was like he didn’t belong anywhere else.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” Stiles replied softly, thinking about how he’d cut up all four pumpkins and how angrily he slammed some of the pieces of innocent fruit into his food processor. Derek nestled his face behind Stiles’ ear and inhaled deeply, then sighed and relaxed, letting out a pleased rumble. “What about you? What did you do today?”

Derek smacked his lips in Stiles’ ear and his body moved behind Stiles like he shrugged. “Nothing much. Worked on the house, had dinner with Laura.”

“You didn’t do anything tonight? Hang out with Boyd?” Stiles pushed, asking about a fellow contractor Derek brought on to help with the electrical in the house. Boyd turned out to be pretty quiet on his own and he and Derek hit it off as well as two rather taciturn guys could. Stiles liked Boyd and got a kick out of him, especially when he shocked the shit out of the group of them and slaughtered them in a game of Settlers of Catan one night at the shop after closing. 

“No,” Derek mumbled, words tickling Stiles’ skin. “But I we should have ‘nother game night. He likes ‘rica.”

Stiles was quiet for a long moment, listening to Derek’s even breaths. “Okay,” he finally said shortly.

Derek’s arms tightened around him, pulling Stiles against Derek’s front soundly then relaxed. Derek was fully asleep in no time.

It took Stiles a little longer.

***

Stiles took solace in the shop. He put everything he had into trying new things, putting something different in the cases each day. Erica finally whined at him a few weeks later about how she couldn’t think about another name for something sweet.

“Seriously, what’s your deal? It’s like you’re on meth but instead of cleaning you’re cooking _all the things_ ,” Erica said one night after they closed and he was caramelizing white chocolate for truffles. “At this point you might as well call this place Stiles Stilinski’s Chocolate Factory.”

Stiles blinked and looked up at Erica, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just cooking.”

Erica rose from the chair she was straddling backwards she grabbed from the office and pulled Stiles away from the stove enough to shake him gently. “Stiles, what’s up?”

Stiles shook his head and turned back to his chocolate, not wanting it to burn. “I’m fine. You should go help Isaac before he throws the broom at your head again. No repeats of last time, please.”

Erica sighed but pointed a perfectly manicured, blood-red nailed finger at him. “You’re lucky I love you so damn much, Stilinski. I’m watching you. And if you need—“

“I know,” Stiles said, cutting her off gently. She kissed him on the side of the cheek and slipped back to the front to help Isaac close for the night. 

***

A week later Stiles was on his way home early for once. It was still after ten but the shop, man. The shop needed Stiles to work harder, do more, try to be better. 

Yeah, the shop.

Derek finally said something the night before when Stiles got home. He wasn’t asleep as usual and casually asked Stiles how much longer he’d be dragging his weary bones into bed after midnight. Stiles hedged his bets and said, “Not sure. Hopefully not too long.”

Derek seemed to accept that.

So tonight Stiles was going to make an effort because he knew in the back of his mind that he was being over-reactionary and didn’t actually _see_ anything happen with Derek and that woman. Just because Derek didn’t say he’d met a drop-dead gorgeous lady that night even after Stiles pressed him about it, it could be nothing. Friends or something to do with the house or—

Stiles drove past the 7-11 that shared parking with a bar on the other side of the lot.

Where Derek’s Toyota was parked. 

Stiles pulled in the lot at the last second, swerving to his left to make the sudden turn and barrelled across to the 7-11 side. He parked and dialed Derek’s cell, feeling his heart pound hard in this chest with every ring.

_Hey, you’ve reached Derek. Leave a me—_

Stiles thumbed the disconnect button and stared out the window, wondering if he should drive over and see if the vehicle really is Derek’s or not. He was just about to put the Jeep in reverse when his phone range.

Derek.

Stiles cleared his throat and took a breath before answering casually, “Hey.”

_”Hey, what’s up? You called?”_

Stiles could hear the faint sound of music, like there was some bass behind the tones, and his voice sounded a bit echo-y. As if Derek was calling from a hallway or bathroom.

“Just checking in. Seeing what you’re up to,” Stiles said lightly, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hanging out with Laura tonight and staying over here,” Derek replied easily. Smoothly. “You still at the shop?”

Stiles leaned his head against the steering wheel and willed his voice not to waver. “Yeah. I have orders for Christmas parties that need to get done,” he lied.

“I could come help?” Derek suggested, voice lifting at the end in a flirty way.

Stiles let out a strangled sound that he covered with forced laughter. “Haha, no. You know how distracting you are.”

Derek hummed and started to say something but there was a noise in the background that sounded like a door opening and voices. The phone got covered up on Derek’s end and Stiles could hear Derek’s attempt to muffle the noise.

“I — I gotta go,” Derek said quickly. “Laura thinks she can kick my ass at Jeopardy.”

“Right,” Stiles replied distantly. “Okay, talk to you later.”

“Absolutely, have a good ni—“ 

Stiles hung up before Derek could finish. 

He sat in the parking lot across from the club, hidden in the shadows of the 7-11, and waited. Ten minutes later Derek got into the Toyota and drove away.

Two minutes after that the tall black woman from a month earlier left in her own car.

***

The next morning Stiles woke up with a sore back, a crick in his neck, a throbbing headache, hands covered in a sugary sweet nougat, and a piece of paper stuck to his face thanks to his own drool. He pushed himself upright in his office chair slowly, trying to work the knots out of his spine while he looked around. 

He remembered. He went back to the shop, started making .. something, and dug a bottle of vodka out of the freezer he kept for baking or other emergencies (this was such an occasion if ever one existed). His baking attempt abandoned, he instead sat in his office and got blind drunk. The lights were on full blast and his phone alarm was going off in his pants, vibrating and jangling out a tune.

He fished the phone out of his pocket and looked down at it, squinting at the numbers until his brain understood them. 

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself and staggered to his feet. He pissed quickly, and gulped down a large glass of water. On mornings he opened the shop he usually had that day’s croissants and biscuits baking for the morning crowd. Unfortunately today was one of those days. 

He focused on getting the coffee started, started quickly throwing some easy breakfast pastry together and put the prepped hot lunch pots on to start their slow journey to being ready around eleven for the lunch rush.

By the time his morning opener, Hayden, got in Stiles was still behind but almost caught up. With her help they were able to tag-team the pre-work rush and get everyone out the door within an acceptable amount of time.

By the time eight am rolled around Stiles was ready to lay down on the flour bags in the back and die. He was about to tell Hayden that was his plan and to resurrect him if it got busy again when the bells over the door jangled and a loud voice called, “Stiles!”

He winced, both from the volume and sound of the voice. 

Laura.

He considered running. He could probably get to the back alley before she caught him—but he turned around anyway. When he did she visibly recoiled and then immediately looked concerned.

“Jesus, Stiles. What the hell happened to you? Did you and Derek get drunk last night?” Laura asked, reaching over the counter to grab his face and pull him closer as she examined his bloodshot eyes and dark circles underneath.

Stiles jerked back and glared. “Oh, you mean he wasn’t with _you_ last night?” He immediately felt bad because _Derek_ was the one he was pissed at.

Laura looked confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and _really_ don’t like your tone. What the hell is going on?”

Stiles opened his mouth to apologize but instead felt his eyes prickle. He squeezed them shut and turned around, away from her. Hayden watched him warily while Laura rounded the counter and nodded to her to continue whatever she was doing before leading Stiles to the back. She guided him by the elbow to his office and shoved him into his seat before chucking the almost-empty bottle of vodka in the trash and getting him another glass of water.

Stiles swiped at his tears messily, rubbing at his nose and shuddering in an attempt to keep from breaking down completely. Laura knelt in front of him and made Stiles look at her.

“Why are you here so early?” Stiles asked, voice nasal and rough. 

“I was going to bring coffee and pastries for the office. Early Merry Christmas,” Laura told him with a small smile. “Guess they’ll have to wait. Now spill.”

Stiles sat back in his chair and covered his face with his hand, groaning into it and sniffling. “I’m sorry, this isn’t your problem.”

“It is if Derek’s telling you things about me that aren’t true,” Laura replied. “What’s going on?”

Stiles was quiet for a long time, eyes scanning the wall behind Laura’s head. Finally he said, “He was at a club last night with a woman I’ve seen him with before. I called him and asked where he was and he said he was spending the night with you. A month ago they were together and I washed Derek what he’d done and he didn’t mention her. 

“If it was just the one time, last month, I could probably let it go, you know? I had, for the most part. Derek has friends—great! But last night…” Stiles trailed off and he tamped down on a sob, feeling like his throat was going to shred itself from unshed tears.

Laura sighed, sounding both angry and resigned at the same time. “Derek, you _moron_. Stiles, will you come with me?”

He looked at Laura and shrugged. “Why? Where? Why?”

She stood and held out her hand. “I promise I can help you. Come with me? Please?”

Stiles felt like he was a kid again, following an adult who kept a tight hold of his hand so he wouldn’t run away. Laura told Hayden to hold down the shop and to call Erica in as she led Stiles out the front door. 

She put Stiles in her car, buckled him in even because now Stiles felt wrung out and listless. She handed him a pair of her sunglasses and he jammed them on to ward against the sun that shone brightly into the car as she drove them through town and out, towards the preserve and…

“Are we going to the old house?” Stiles asked, wondering how badly it would hurt if he tuck and rolled from the car at their speed.

“Derek has to explain some things to you,” Laura insisted and barely slowed down at the few stop signs between them and the house, probably anticipating Stiles’ reaction.

Stiles crossed his arms in front of him and practically pouted the rest of the ten minute drive to the old Hale property. Derek had brought him here once to show him vaguely where he wanted things to go and how the house would look. Derek had great ideas but wanted to get everything _just right_ before he showed Stiles any progress. 

They’d discussed the house and his renovations at length, often at night before curling up to sleep, wound around each other and whispering in the dark. Stiles found Derek much more vocal under the cover of night, when Stiles couldn’t see his face clearly. Like he was afraid of someone seeing Derek for his true self under the scruffy beard and closed-off expression that he usually projected. 

When they pulled up to the house Derek’s Toyota was in the yard… beside the vehicle the strange woman drove off in the night before. Stiles went still in the passenger seat and grabbed for the door handle. Laura noticed and stopped the car quickly.

“Stiles, no. Come inside, _please_ ,” Laura pleaded. “I promise, this isn’t something bad. _I promise_.”

Stiles looked over at Laura, over the tops of her ridiculously vampy sunglasses, and took in her desperate expression. 

“Derek has been trying to do something nice for you but he’s been doing it _wrong_. I told him he was being stupid but he wouldn’t listen and now you have to trust me so he doesn’t ruin you guys. Stiles, please?”

Stiles could feel how sincere Laura was being, she was practically crying herself. 

“Getting Derek back here from New York was a blessing in itself. Now that he’s got you I haven’t seen him this happy in _years_. If he fucks this up and you leave him I know he’ll go back to New York. Trust me on this, okay Stiles?”

Stiles couldn’t help but feel his heart break just a little for Laura in this very moment because even though Derek hadn’t come straight out and told him everything about the fire and why they left he’d pieced enough together to know that Derek felt responsible for it and that it’d taken him years away in therapy to even consider coming back home. 

Stiles didn’t want him to leave. 

He nodded and got out of the car with Laura and let her lead him up to the house. It was looking better from when Derek brought him here. All the doors and windows were in, and there were people on the roof putting on the shingles. 

Laura opened the front door and pushed Stiles ahead of her while calling out, “Derek? You’ve got _a lot_ of explaining to do!”

Stiles fought the urge to run back outside and it was too late when Derek appeared in front of them with a wide grin—until he saw Stiles.

Stiles who looked like death warmed over with red eyes, a red nose, day-old clothes and hardened sugar in various forms all over them. Derek’s eyes widened and he took a step forward but Stiles jerked back.

“What the hell, Laura,” Derek hissed at his sister. “What are you _doing_?”

“He knows, Derek!”

“How?” Derek demanded.

“Because I saw you on the street and outside the club!” Stiles exploded. 

“What?” Derek asked, confused. “When? What? With who?”

“Derek, what do you think about— oh, hello.”

Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw the person who walked in the room from here Derek came from. “Her!” He pointed at the, frankly _gorgeous_ black woman who walked up to them carrying a couple sheets of tiles. 

“Uh, hello?” The woman said warily, looking between Derek, Stiles and Laura. “What’s going on?”

“Stiles, this is Braeden,” Derek introduced them with a sigh. “She’s an interior designer and she’s helping me out with the house.”

“This is the famous Stiles?” Braeden asked excitedly. She stuck out her hand for Stiles to shake. “It’s so great to finally meet you!”

Stiles accepted her hand slowly, looking at Derek like he’d grown a second head. 

“What’s happening?” Stiles asked. 

“Derek,” Laura started in an overly-calm tone. “Stiles thinks you and Braeden here are—are. He thinks you two are—“

Realization dawned on Braeden. “God, no!” She laughed. “I”m happily in a relationship, not that I’ve been able to get a word in about _my_ girlfriend with this one going on and on about Stiles these past six weeks!”

“But, but… last night,” Stiles said weakly, feeling his legs shake a bit.

“Malia, my girlfriend, works as a bartender. Derek and I needed to go over some house plans so we met there.”

“A month ago on Burrows street up by the grocery store?” Stiles shot back.

“My office. Or it will be, if I ever get enough time to officially establish and open it. Right now it’s more like a desk, chair and a lot of sample boxes and dust,” Braeden shrugged.

Stiles felt so stupid. “But why all the secrecy? Why’d you tell me you were with Laura last night?” Stiles asked Derek, jabbing a finger into his chest in an attempt to keep his anger going.

“Secrecy because it’s a _secret_ , Stiles,” Derek laughed. “Do you want to know?”

“Yes!” Stiles practically yelled. Derek grabbed him and pulled him close to his chest, squeezing him tightly. Stiles clung to him, digging his fingers into Derek’s back and exhaling a shuddery breath against his neck.

“Come on,” Derek said gruffly after a long minute. He led Stiles by the hand and they took a right into a great room with a large loving room area with a lovely open view of the entire front yard. It opened into a massive—

“ _Kitchen_ ,” Stiles breathed and Derek had to tug him along to keep him moving. Stiles caught up and started to run his hands over all the large surfaces and state of the art appliances, along with a double oven and massive six burner stove with a large hood. There were two fridges and—  “An extra freezer in the butler’s pantry around the corner,” Derek explained. Stiles barely heard him as he lovingly stroked the deep double sink and let out a strangled groan when Derek mentioned the pull-out stand mixer feature.

“You were keeping this secret so you could watch my head explode?” Stiles asked, looking around at the still-unfinished room and wondering how he’d react if it were actually done.

“No, stupid,” Derek told him softly, cupping his cheek. “It’s kind of your Christmas gift.”

Stiles gaped at him. “What?”

“Stiles, come on. You’ve seen me in the kitchen. The microwave and a burner is all I need to get through the day. You think I knew what an ‘induction cooktop’ was before I met you? Or, actually, Braeden? Or how much more convenient it is to have a wash station in the island? Or a special shelf for your cooko--"

Stiles jumped at Derek and kissed him hotly, cutting him off in the best possible way. Derek gathered him close, holding him tightly while he buried the fingers of one hand in Stiles’ messy hair and clutched at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Stiles breathed against Derek’s mouth.

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I should have said something, should have _asked_. I don’t know if you even want—“

“Yes,” Stiles said fiercely. “Yes, yes, yes. I want this.”

Derek held Stiles’ face as he pulled back enough to look into Stiles’ eyes. “You want to move in with me?”

Stiles didn’t realize that’s exactly what Derek was asking but he nodded anyway. “Yes. God, _yes!_ ”

Behind them Laura rolled her eyes at Braeden. “We might want to give them a little time. Want to get a coffee?”

Braeden nodded and put her tile samples on the counter. “Starbucks?”

Laura grinned. “Actually, I know a great little place…”


End file.
